


Such Great Heights

by onbrokenfeet



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, bouncer!laura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 06:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbrokenfeet/pseuds/onbrokenfeet
Summary: Midnight seems like a good time to find some trouble. Luckily, there's a bouncer to bother, and a bet to make.[Bouncer!Laura au]





	Such Great Heights

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy! My new update schedule begins now with new one-shots on tuesdays and thursdays. Shipwrecks will update every other Saturday! So stay tuned for more fics later this week!

**-The First Try-**   
  
 Summer in a college town is not at all what Carmilla expected. She had planned on crashing parties and going on all-night adventures. She had this idea to sit on the rooftop of the old shoe factory, read Faulkner, and listen as her friends shot golf balls through distant windows. You know, classic, simple things. Except the party throwers have all gone home to their families and there is nowhere else to really go. The old shoe factory is still there, but in reality, Carmilla isn’t exactly great at making friends. So she wanders the streets of the town, occasionally looking down at her watch. Midnight seems like a good time to find some trouble.    
  
Carmilla lets the night consume her as she wanders down Lustig Street. There are bars here, but not particularly great ones. During the summer they’re all full of older people watching baseball games and arguing over team statistics. So, not exactly what she’s looking for. She passes the bistro that has her picture on the wall. No, not for doing one of those “eat it all in ten minutes and it’s free” challenges or anything. Just a small incident involving duct tape and an obnoxious customer. No big deal, right? The host at the podium at the door sneers at her and she smirks. He scoffs and she makes a mental note that over priced scones aren’t going to fill the hunger she has.    
  
She finishes off the block and takes a turn, now entirely unsure as to where she’s headed. This street is dim and there’s a haze about it. Two street lights flicker as if she’s in some kind of horror B movie. That’s when she hears it. There’s a beat, subtle at first but growing louder on and off. As if someone is opening a door to where her night will begin and end. She follows the beat down an alley and finds it almost entrancing.    
  
There’s a line against the soggy brick wall of the alleyway to her right. To her left are piles upon piles of trash bags. Yes indeed, this is the place. What place? Carmilla has no idea, but she’d love to find out. She pushes her way through a small crowd of people who all seem to want to shove back. She doesn’t let it phaze her, she pushes through as people curse at her and she finds the entrance. There’s a neon sign covered in cobwebs that reads “The Lusty Crab” in pink. The door is pink velvet covered in stains and god only knows what else. Carmilla admires the upholstered, hideous sight until something far prettier catches her eye.    
  
“You know they’re going to kill you for cutting the line right?” a small brunette asks. She’s got a focused expression, as if she wants to look tough. She’s wearing a black suit, tight against her shoulders and abdomen as if to display the marvel that she is. The shirt underneath her blazer is pink which matches the subtle dusting of her cheeks. Her hair is in a messy bun and Carmilla wonders if she’s getting enough sleep.    
  
“Yeah, well, VIP privileges, sweetheart,” Carmilla replies.   
  
“Oh yeah?” the woman asks. “Name?”    
  
“How about we forget the name, and I slide you whatever cash I have in my pocket.”    
  
The brunette shakes her head. “Look, I have actual VIPs to talk to, okay? You’re gonna have to wait in line like everyone else.”    
  
The people behind Carmilla grumble to agree with the bouncer; but Carmilla only uses it to fuel her desire to get her foot in the ugliest door she’s ever seen.    
  
“Okay what if, instead, you let someone else in, and I just tag along as their plus one?” Carmilla throws in a wink and a smirk. The ol’ tricks she keeps up her sleeve never let her down.   
  
“Yeah right!” Someone yells.    
  
“As lucky as they’d be to have such an arrogant guest, I think it’s time you go before I call the security team.”    
  
_ It seems I’ve met my match _ , Carmilla thinks. But maybe, just maybe, this is a game worth playing. After all, how hard can it be to get into a club when the bouncer is five feet tall?    
  
“What if I make you a bet?,” Carmilla asks with a devious smile.    
  
“What kind of bet?” the bouncer asks, a bit irritated, a bit curious. “Not that I’m interested.”   
  
“I make it into this club, you take me out to dinner.”    
  
“What?” Now the bouncer’s shirt looks pale against the pink in her cheeks; which is quite the achievement if Carmilla has anything to say about it.    
  
“Simple bet, simple reward.”    
  
“What do I get if you lose?” the bouncer asks. “And don’t say that you’ll take  _ me _ out to dinner.”    
  
Carmilla chuckles and nods. “You catch on pretty quick, don’t you sweetheart? Tell you what, I don’t make it in, I’ll never step foot in this alley again.”  _ Out of sheer embarrassment _ , Carmilla thinks.    
  
“Deal,” the bouncer says. She puts out her hand which Carmilla takes. They give a firm shake and break away determined that they’ve both already won. Carmilla gives a small wave and turns away, disappearing into the alley and hopefully out of the bouncer’s hair for at least another hour.    
  
**\- The Second Try -**   
  
Laura stands at full attention at her post. The usual crowd shuffles around her, half of them already drunk, the other half already moving to the overflowing beats. She watches the crowd carefully, ready for another visit from the mysterious woman. She wonders what she could possibly be plotting. Hopefully nothing dangerous or embarrassing, especially seeing as how asking for dinner was embarrassing enough. Worse yet seeing that the other woman was particularly attractive with her stupid leather outfit and her ridiculously nice curves. Laura tried not to think about the wink or the smirks or the low, soothing rasp of her voice. Nope, not thinking about it, focusing completely on how absolutely infuriating she seems.    
  
Laura isn’t paying attention as a couple walks up to her until she reflexively has her palm on someone’s chest. A man who has  _ obviously _ pre-gamed has nearly stumbled into her and is slurring what vaguely sounds like english. His plus one is thankfully a familiar face, though her hair is disheveled and covering it.    
  
“Laura, little help?”    
  
“Sure thing, Betty.”    
  
Laura goes to help the man stand, but he reaches his hand forward as if to make a grab at her. She moves her hand from his chest in a swift motion and uppercuts him in his chin. He groans, falling backward and slamming to the cement below. Betty lets out a sigh of relief.    
  
“Now  _ that _ is how friends help friends, thanks Hollis.”    
  
“Anytime, is he a one time use kind of deal or?”    
  
“Definitely, mind if I head inside? I’ll get Bob out here on clean up.”    
  
“Go ahead, I’ll see you inside when I’m on break.”    
  
“Thanks again, Hollis,” Betty says with a dismissive wave as she fades into the doorway.    
  
Laura looks back to Betty’s quote-unquote ‘date.’ He’s writhing on the ground, whining about his jaw. Laura feels a little bad about it, but at the same time confident it was probably the right thing. Right? She looks over at the crowd who all seem a little more stiff than before, which is kind of nice for her honestly. The part that isn’t nice is the clapping she hears.    
  
“You know I had my doubts but you really are one tough creampuff, aren’t you?” a low voice says. Laura pinpoints the sound as the stranger from earlier and frowns. There she is, leather-clad with a dozen roses under her arm.    
  
“I thought I already made it clear I don’t take bribes,” Laura says.    
  
“Bold to assume they’re for you,” the stranger replies.    
  
“Then- wait, what?” Laura feels heat in her cheeks again, just like before. She feels like the crowd is way to close and way too far all at the same time. She’s not upset that they’re not for her, not at all. They’re probably drug store roses that she picked up next to five gallon jugs of pretzels. Yeah, and she’s definitely not jealous of whoever is receiving them.    
  
“You’re just too cute,” the stranger says. She steps forward, her earthy eyes shining against the dim light above the door. She’s hazy in the alleyway, all together different from everyone else here. She’s persistent in a different way, not like she needs another drink, like she just needs to win. Laura can admire that, maybe.    
  
“Look uh-” Laura rubs the back of her neck. “If you’re trying to pretend they’re for someone inside, I think you might wanna come up with another plan.”    
  
“They’re not, I was messing with you, jeez.” The stranger hands over the flowers and Laura very cautiously accepts them. She pretends she isn’t smelling them, she pretends to not be happy they’re fresh.    
  
“Thank you,” Laura says.    
  
“You’re welcome. I figured I might pick you up some flowers before we go out to dinner tonight.”    
  
“You are absolutely the most overconfident person I have ever met.”   
  
“Does the prize for that entail me getting inside this club?”    
  
“Definitely not,” Laura replies.    
  
“Damn,” the stranger says with a snap of her fingers. “The flowers really didn’t work, huh?”    
  
“If you want them back-”    
  
“Nope,” the stranger says, lifting her hand. “They’re for you. I’m going to have to resort to plan C.”    
  
“Oh yeah? What’s plan C?”    
  
“A true magician never reveals their tricks.”    
  
“Please tell me there’s a card trick involved,” Laura says, almost hopeful.    
  
“Maybe,” the stranger says with a shrug. She says nothing else. She doesn’t even wave, she just fades again, into the crowd, into the alley. She’s gone and Laura can’t help but feel lonely, the crowd’s stares the only reason she knows she isn’t imagining her. Or maybe the proof she needs to say she is imagining her. She looks to the flowers and almost smiles, hoping her imaginary friend comes back to annoy her soon.    
  
**\- If At First You Don’t Succeed... -**   
  
Why? Why did she have to be on some sort of list? The bouncer Carmilla had grown so fond of bothering had gone on break, which Carmilla was hoping meant she could sneak inside. It turns out that a meat-head who speaks only in grunts was able to understand the order to not let her in under any circumstances. She then tried to sneak her way in with a group of similar-aged girls from out of town. She nearly got her damn foot in the door when she was grabbed by the jacket and picked up like a newborn kitten. She heard another unhappy grunt as she was placed right back where she started.    
  
She makes her way down the alley instead of back to the street, taking a turn at the corner of the building and kicking cans along the way. So maybe she isn’t going to win. Maybe her charm and wits aren’t enough. Maybe she won’t get dinner with uh, cute-bouncer-girl-whose-name she’d-have-to-learn. Did that disappoint her? Yeah, she thought, it did. It’s not every day in this town you find someone so worth messing with. Someone who looks so adorable when their brow furrows and their cheeks light up.    
  
Carmilla wanders down the alley, careful to avoid rats and strange garbage. She looks up from her current game of kick the soup can to see a door open. There is a beat up sign on it that reads ‘employees only, hon’ in pink letters. The door opens and out comes a man with a bag of trash that he can barely lift. He’s putting his entire body into pushing it over the edge of the dumpster when Carmilla gets a bit of an idea.    
  
**\- ...Try, Try Again -**   
  
Laura hasn’t seen her adversary in over an hour and she’s starting to wonder if she’s given up. Which, on the good side, means she’ll never bother her again. But, on the bad side, means she’ll never...bother her again. It’s not fun to be bothered, of course. It’s not fun to have someone try to get under your skin. But the way she does it, that flirtatious way. It makes Laura feel special? Is that the word she’d use? She’s probably like that with everyone, anyway.    
  
Laura tries to force away the thought as she watches the empty alley. The line has either stumbled into the club or given up on the whole ordeal. Laura checks her phone to find it’s just after two, which means there’s only an hour left until the game is over. A bummer, really, she thinks. This is probably the most interesting night she’s had in awhile. She stretches and yawns, ready to go home and pretend that her imaginary friend was just that.    
  
“You’re not tired, are you? We still have to get dinner.”    
  
Laura jumps at the sound of the voice and lets out a squeak from fright. She knows that voice all too well at this point. She scans the alley though and doesn’t see her dear new friend. Well, at least not until she turns to face the door. The door is open and the stranger is leaning against it with a wide grin.    
  
“How in the frilly hell did you do that?”    
  
“Well, it wasn’t with a card trick if that’s what you’re wondering.”    
  
“Did Bob let you in? I swear-”    
  
“No, your human manwich was quite adamant about keeping me out. I just have my ways.”    
  
“So then, how?”    
  
“I’ll be keeping that secret. I hear it’s supposed to rain next weekend, wouldn’t want to get stuck outside.”    
  
“Okay, you are ridiculous and incorrigible and and-”    
  
“And your dinner date for this evening.”    
  
“Oh, right,” Laura says. She looks down at her shoes, then nervously back at the stranger.    
  
“Look,” the stranger says with a sigh. “You really don’t have to if you don’t want to. It was just a joke. Shit, if not for a bit of a happy accident, I’d have lost anyway.”    
  
Laura nods and thinks. So she does have a soft side. A soft side that Laura could get to know, but should definitely not get to know. A soft side that maybe brought her flowers in a genuine sort of way…   
  
“Where do you want to go?”    
  
“Food’s already waiting.”    
  
“Really?”    
  
“Wanted to make sure I had dinner either way.”    
  
“Well, I don’t get off for another hour.”    
  
“Already taken care of,” the stranger says. She points her thumb backward to Bob who stomps his way outside.    
  
“Be safe,” he says in a gruff tone while he gives Laura a pat on the head.    
  
“O-kay,” Laura says. “Let’s go then?”    
  
“Go we shall.”    
  
The stranger steps out of the doorway and into the alley. She dusts some glitter off her jacket and motions for Laura to follow her. Laura does, but one thing makes her stop.    
  
“Wait,” Laura says. “What’s your name?”    
  
“Carmilla,” she replies. “What’s yours?”    
  
“Laura.”    
  
“Hm. I like creampuff better, but I guess Laura will do.”   
  
Laura rolls her eyes and sighs, wondering if she’ll be like this all night. Carmilla laughs, which guarantees she will be. Laura shakes her head and continues on, following her new friend, or date, or whatever. They begin to blend with the night crowd, the elderly sports fans, the stumbling drunks. Laura follows Carmilla through town, having only one hope, to see that soft side again.   
  
**\- Call It What You Want -**   
  
Carmilla could tell Laura was both impressed and disturbed by the amount of food Carmilla had ordered. She could also tell Laura was confused about how they weren’t eating in the restaurant, but that she also seemed a bit happy about it. Happy Duck isn’t for everyone, after all. A bit of a hole in the wall behind a smellier wall which is inside a dumpster. Still, their food is to die for. Sometimes a bit too literally.    
  
Carmilla carries the plastic bag which is full of smaller, greasier paper bags.    
  
“It’s not gonna bite,” Carmilla says, noticing the look on Laura’s face.    
  
“You sure about that?” Laura asks.    
  
“Positive,” Carmilla replies.   
  
“If you say so,” Laura says. “So where are we going, anyway?”    
  
“Someplace special.”    
  
“Special like romantic? Or special like somewhere you go with your friends?”    
  
Carmilla feels the weight of the question. Carmilla also takes a moment to appreciate the fact that the question was obviously mustered from somewhere. She sees Laura’s shaking hand and has to tell herself that she shouldn’t take it. Not yet.   
  
“You can view it however you’d like,” Carmilla says. A safe answer for a dangerous question.    
  
“What if I don’t know how I want to view it?”    
  
“Take your time, you’ll figure it out.”    
  
Carmilla hears Laura sigh as if she’s relieved. Does Carmilla really seem that scary? Maybe not, as when they round the next corner, Carmilla finds a certain look in Laura’s eyes. Laura looks away as soon as she sees Carmilla looking at her. But Carmilla could swear she saw it, that look that wants. The look directed at her hand.    
  
**\- If You Can Make It Here… -**   
  
Laura isn’t sure exactly what she’s looking at or why she’s looking at it. The building looks grim against the night sky. Grey bricks disheveled and chipped stack into a vast, striking castle of discarded shoes and lost jobs. The warehouse seems daunting and Laura begins to think she’ll be murdered here if she’s not careful. Still, she presses on. She goes to walk through the broken gateway but Carmilla stops her.    
  
“We can go somewhere else if you want, somewhere more romantic or friendly.”    
  
“You picked this place for a reason, I’d like to find out why.”    
  
“You’ll know when you see it,” Carmilla replies.    
  
“You really care about your air of mystery, don’t you?”    
  
“Keeps you interested, doesn’t it?”    
  
“I’d probably be interested without it,” Laura says softly.    
  
Carmilla doesn’t say anything which worries Laura at first. Laura looks, though, for something in her face, and she finds something a bit reassuring. She finds a small, tight smile. A smile Carmilla most likely wanted to keep to herself, but a smile Laura shares with her. A smile Laura tucks in her pocket and holds on to. Laura approaches the doors that seem to loom over her. Black doors that once looked modern now look like a warning sign that plague rats lie beyond. Laura sticks close to Carmilla, mostly out of uncertainty. She could very well handle herself, but the not-knowing is always the scariest part. Carmilla kicks the door open which lets the building exhale dust and spiderwebs in one big belch.    
  
“Ladies first,” Carmilla says.    
  
“Might I point out that you are also a lady?” Laura asks.    
  
“Fair point,” Carmilla says with a nod.    
  
Carmilla steps inside and motions Laura to follow, which she does. Inside, the moon floods the room with cold, white light. It seems to make the dust glow against the old machinery. The floor shines in spots not caked in dirt and left behind inventory. Laura takes in the sight of dust falling like snow as Carmilla seems to be staring.    
  
“So, you like it?”    
  
“As a creepy warehouse it fulfils its job. As a place for a dinner? Not so sure.”    
  
“We’re not eating dinner down here if that helps,” Carmilla says.    
  
“Where are we eating dinner then?”    
  
Carmilla points to a staircase that looks about as safe as trying to take one of the old forklifts for a spin in the dark. Laura shakes her head quite adamantly but Carmilla insists it’s safe. Laura heaves out a sigh and acknowledges that she’s already come this far. So, she tip-toes up the rickety metal staircase and listens to it whine under her. She spends most of the journey with one eye shut and the other squinted. Which okay, not exactly safe, but better than looking down, right? She stops when she knocks into Carmilla, gives a swift apology, and pretends she didn’t want to linger in the woman’s personal space.    
  
Carmilla keeps trucking onward, grabbing a flashlight and guiding Laura up several more stairs and eventually a ladder. Laura wonders if they’re finally done when she sees it. She sees it and she decides that this is much more than a friendly place.    
  
**\- ...You Can Make It Anywhere -** **  
** **  
** Carmilla takes a deep breath of the fresh night air. She lets herself bathe in the moonlight that cascades over the town, skipping rooftops like a thief in a cartoon. She looks over, remembering why she’s here, remembering that there’s more to life than the sky. She finds Laura with her jaw wide open, in shock of what she’s seeing. Carmilla follows her eyes and she admires it too.    
  
The entire town is beneath them, even the tallest of buildings can’t compare. The air is a symphony of night time wonders. Crickets chirp in their monotonous chorus, cars pass as easy as the breeze. The wind strokes their backs and whistles through the old trees below. Lights go dark all around them, leaving the moon to steal all the glory for herself. The entire town seems to be fighting the beast of insomnia tonight.    
  
“It’s beautiful,” Laura says.    
  
“Like you,” Carmilla replies without thinking.    
  
“Oh,” Laura says. “ _ Oh _ .”    
  
Carmilla clears her throat and points over the way. Past a few rusted ducts is a folding table with a missing leg. There’s a broken yardstick duct taped to it in its place. Carmilla admires her own handy work as she walks Laura over, reminding her to watch her step. She pulls out a chair for her maybe a date and invites her to sit. Laura does with a soft ‘thank you.’ Carmilla takes the opposite seat and throws down the food bag. It smells like the most delicious food poisoning she’ll get this week at the very least.    
  
“So what did we get?” Laura asks.    
  
“Four burgers as rare as legally possible, two salads in case you’re a health nut, and two pounds of french fries just in case.”    
  
“Salad and fries please,” Laura says.    
  
“Had a feeling,” Carmilla replies.    
  
They eat primarily in silence. Laura comments once or twice about being surprised about the quality of the food, in a positive way of course. Carmilla eats three burgers before tapping out on the entire meal. Laura continues munching on fries, seemingly lost in thought. Carmilla leans back in her chair, lost in thoughts of her own. Thoughts of the stars above them, about the town below them, but mostly about the woman across from her.    
  
“So, how long have you been a bouncer?” Carmilla asks, realizing she knows literally nothing about the other woman.    
  
“Couple of months,” Laura says with a fry stuffed in her cheek. She swallows, then continues, “I couldn’t find work anywhere around here until my roommate told me about the Lusty Crab. Which, yes, off-putting name when looking for employment. But, I had several years of martial arts under my belt thanks to my dad’s paranoia, so it kinda seemed like it might work.”    
  
“That does explain you knocking that guy on his ass tonight. Do you like the job?”    
  
“Honestly? Heck no. It’s awful. I stand around all night trying to explain the fire code to people who are already drunk. Then I have to deal with them when they drink more. It’s kind of the last thing I want to do with my life.”    
  
“What do you want to do with your life?” Carmilla asks.    
  
“Journalism. I’m going to Silas for it.”    
  
“Really? Got any big stories in your scope around this trash can of a town?”    
  
“Well, there is some mysterious stranger who showed up recently.”    
  
“Oh yeah? What are they like? Tall, dark, mysterious, perhaps overly attractive?”    
  
“Try very full of herself, a bit mysterious because that’s the way she likes it for some reason, kind of broody-”    
  
“Please, enough with the compliments, you’re gonna make me blush.”    
  
“I was also going to say sarcastic, but, seemingly sweet when she wants to be,” Laura says. Now Carmilla feels a bit of heat in her cheeks, something she’s not quite accustomed to. “And yes, overly attractive.”    
  
“Well,” Carmilla says, trying to hide her blush. “She seems interesting.”    
  
“A bit. Maybe I should start asking her some questions, you know, get to know her better.”   
  
“I think she might feel inclined to answer them.”   
  
“I’ll have to think of some good ones, then.”   
  
“You have all night to figure it out. In fact, I know just where to set up such an interrogation.”   
  
“Oh, really?”   
  
Carmilla nods her head to the side and puts out her hand. Laura chews at her cheek, nervous at first, then all too decisive. She takes Carmilla’s hand and slides her fingers in between Carmilla’s. Carmilla unintentionally smiles, Laura unintentionally blushes. Carmilla turns away, leading Laura over rickety bits of ceiling. Laura’s grip becomes tighter the more perilous it feels up here. Carmilla’s grip becomes tighter to let Laura know she’s safe. Carmilla only lets go when the journey has ended. There’s a beaten up violet couch sitting lopsided against a wall, and a coffee table with an unfinished solitaire game on top. Carmilla makes herself comfortable on the couch, putting her feet up on the table, and patting the spot beside her for Laura to sit.   
  
Laura accepts the invitation and plops down beside her. Carmilla lazily stretches an arm around the back of the couch, but carefully not on Laura’s shoulders. Laura sits just a few inches away; close enough to maybe close the gap, far enough to widen the gap should something go awry. They take comfort in each other’s company, quiet at first, then stumbling over questions and comments. Jokes about each other’s personalities, or what they know of them. Carmilla learns that Laura has always been somewhat of a sleuth, dating back to kindergarten. Laura learns that Carmilla is also going to Silas, but for Philosophy. They talk about maybe passing each other, like shadows on the pavement. They talk about having lunch together on sunny afternoons. Carmilla learns that if left to Laura, that lunch will be entirely sugar. Laura learns that if it’s left to Carmilla, their lunch will practically still have a pulse. Gross.    
  
They talk for hours and suddenly the silence seems to drift away. The thoughts grow deeper and the questions more bizarre. There isn’t a moment where they aren’t hanging on each other’s words. There are no crickets, no moon, no cars, no stars, nothing. There’s only that small gap, getting ever so smaller. There’s only Laura’s suit jacket discarded against the couch. There’s only Carmilla’s arm dropping just a bit further toward the goal of wrapping it around Laura. There’s only whispers and jokes and quiet conversation. There’s only them, infinitely around each other, blending together in a symphony of happy memories.    
  
“Oh,” Carmilla says. “I was hoping we’d get to see this.”    
  
“See what?” Laura asks, too caught up in Carmilla’s eyes to look at anything else. Carmilla points and Laura’s eyes follow. The sun is rising over the town, washing away the moon in a sea of vibrant colors. She sees the orange tipping over the edge of the world in the distance. She looks back to Carmilla and smiles. She watches the sun wash over her date. She watches pale skin grow pink under the rays of the coming day.    
  
“It’s beautiful,” Laura says. She looks to Carmilla, almost expectantly.    
  
“I’m not gonna slip up again, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”    
  
“Darn,” Laura says. “Just when I was hoping to find a reason to kiss you.”    
  
“You really need more reasons?”    
  
“Well, if you’re going to act like that-”    
  
Laura’s words collapse under her lips as a slow smile creeps upon her face. Even she couldn’t keep going. Not when there were reasons, and quoted poetry, and deepest secrets. There were reasons in the things they shared, and the things that took them farther apart. It’s not enough to be love at first sight, but it’s enough for a heated kiss.    
  
Carmilla moves first, resting her forehead against Laura’s. Carmilla grins, waiting to strike. Laura grins, entirely ready to be patient. Laura brushes her nose against Carmilla’s, leaning closer toward her lips. Carmilla places a hand at Laura’s cheek, brushing at soft skin with her thumb. Laura dives forward, slow at first, then breaking all barriers. She feels her reasons. She feels the similarities, the differences, and discarded secrets. She feels an incorrigible, mysterious, beautiful, sweet...something. She feels it even more as Carmilla sinks into her, sliding a tongue against her lips. Laura welcomes it, the way she welcomes the warmth of the sun collapsing on her lips.    
  
Carmilla stops as she hears giggling against her lips. She cocks a brow and looks down to Laura with her chapped lips and glowing cheeks.    
  
“What’s so funny?”    
  
“I just didn’t expect this to go-” Laura stops, rolling her hand. “Like this, like, at all.”    
  
“Are you glad it did?”    
  
“Very,” Laura says, leaning closer again. “Are you?”    
  
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe.”    
  
“ _ Carm _ .”    
  
“Of course I’m glad. You know you might have to get used to this, right?”    
  
“I think I can manage.”    
  
Carmilla looks entirely too amused; and Laura takes that as a hint to withhold kisses for sweeter times. Carmilla burrows her face into Laura’s neck and stays there, as if to apologize. Laura wraps her arm around Carmilla lazily, as if to say it’s okay. They stay there in a hazy sort of bliss. Laura watches dawn crawl across the face of the earth, towing the sun on its back. She watches and she thinks. Eventually, with Carmilla half asleep at her side, she gets lost in a dream. A dream where she gets used to it, a dream of lunches on sunny days, a dream of shared thoughts, fresh flowers, and everything so infinitely in between.    
  
Yeah. She can get used to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else's teeth hurt? Too sweet...dial it back, self.


End file.
